football player!reiner x majorette!reader.
setting: connie’s house/pool party
requests open— hope you enjoy ♡
The bass of the music thumped against Reiner’s chest, rattling the bones deep inside him, but it was nothing compared to the vibrating, frantic energy radiating from the girl currently in his arms.
They were in a spare bedroom at Connie’s place—the place they’d all frequented after games—and the door was securely locked, the key clicking with a definitive, final sound that made Reiner’s pulse spike even higher.
He had you in his lap, one hand bruisingly tight on your hip, anchoring you down as you moved against him. The friction was maddening; he was already sweating through his tank top, his skin slick and hot beneath your hands.
He groaned, a low, rough sound that was swallowed up by the heavy beat of the house track playing in the other room.
"Mmph... yeah, exactly like that."
Reiner buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of your perfume mixed with the chlorine from the pool earlier. He missed you. God, how he missed you.
The days spent apart—the early mornings, the late practices, the sheer exhaustion of the season—had left him aching in a dull, constant throb that only you could fix. He squeezed his eyes shut, his hips jerking upward instinctively to meet your grind, chasing the friction he needed.
"Please," he whispered against your skin, his voice cracking slightly. "Don't stop moving, baby. I need... I need you."
His hand slid from your hip, trailing up your spine, fingers tangling into the loose strands of your hair at the base of your neck. He didn't pull; he just held, tilting your head back to expose more of your throat, his lips ghosting over the sensitive pulse point there.
"You looked so good out there," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, heavy with unspoken desire. "Jumping around in that... that tight uniform. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. Even when I was supposed to be watching the ball."
Reiner’s other hand left your waist, reaching down to grip himself through his trunks, his knuckles white as he squeezed, desperate for some relief. He looked up at you through heavy-lidded eyes, his gaze dark, swirling with a mix of adoration and a possessive hunger that was rapidly overtaking his usual stoicism.
"I'm so hard for you," he admitted, a confession that usually stayed locked deep inside him. He leaned in, pressing a messy, open-mouthed kiss to your jaw, his tongue darting out to taste you. "I was thinking about this all week. Thinking about getting my hands on you."
He pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his breathing ragged. The hunger in his expression softened into something softer, more pleading. The weight of his desire was so great it felt like it would crush him if he didn't say it.
"Mommy," he breathed, the word falling from his lips like a prayer. "Please... can I have you? Please, let me make you feel good."
His grip on your hair tightened just enough to make you tilt your head further back, exposing the long line of your throat. He couldn't wait any longer; the sight of you, the way you moved above him, the way you looked at him with that knowing, teasing glint in your eyes—it was undoing him.
"Show me," you whispered, your hand sliding down to cover his, guiding his hand to the apex of your thighs. "Show me how much you missed me."
Reiner shuddered, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he finally lost the last of his control. He didn't just kiss you this time; he devoured you. His lips were hungry and demanding, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to claim you, to taste every inch of you.
His hands were everywhere, exploring, squeezing, marking you as his own. He pulled back only to trail kisses down your neck, over your collarbone, his teeth scraping lightly over the sensitive skin.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he rasped, his voice thick with lust. "I'm going to fuck you so good. I'm going to make you scream."
He pushed you back onto the bed, his body covering yours, his weight a heavy, comforting pressure. He stared down at you, his eyes dark and searching. "I need to be inside you," he growled. "Now."
He didn't wait for a verbal answer. He kicked his trunks off, the material pooling on the floor, and his erection sprang free, heavy and ready. He positioned himself between your legs, his eyes locking onto yours. "I'm going to take care of you," he promised, his voice soft and earnest. "I'm going to make you feel so good."
He guided himself to your entrance, the head of his cock nudging against your wet folds. He paused, his hand trembling slightly, and looked up at you. "You're sure? You want this?"
You nodded, your breath hitching as he began to push forward.
Reiner let out a low, guttural sound as he entered you, his body trembling with the effort of controlling himself. He went slow at first, giving you time to adjust, but the friction was maddening. He was so big, so thick, and it felt like he was filling you completely. He moved in and out, his hips thrusting slowly at first, then faster as the pleasure built.
"I love you," he whispered, his forehead pressed against yours. "I love you so much."
He continued to move, his hips snapping against yours, his breathing coming in ragged gasps. He was lost in the sensation, his body aching for release. He reached down to rub your clit, his fingers working in time with his thrusts.
"I'm going to cum," Reiner gasped, his eyes squeezing shut. "I'm going to fill you up."
He thrust one last time, hard and deep, and he came, his body shuddering as he released inside you. He continued to move against you, riding out his orgasm, his body trembling with aftershocks.
He collapsed onto the sex, his chest heaving, his face buried in your neck.
